Chapter Text
Her last departure felt like a fever dream even now. A turn of event in which he had never found logic nor reason. Yet it had started with a certain innocence, a lone voice beckoning the Courier to the Divide. But there was no innocence in there, not when the ground had split open nor when it had swallowed all of the Legionnaire it once held. She would answer it nonetheless. No arguments from Vulpes could reach her mind. And so they parted, in the little hours of the morning, on the shore of the Fort. Neither him or her shared a word, allowing a simple silence to answer all of their worries. Gentle waves crushing against the shore surrounded them, the morning mist still heavy. Cold fingers intertwining with his own for a moment, colder ones holding her back. He stood, watching her figure growing fainter on the horizon.
Vulpes found little time to spare for her after it, tensions growing tenser across the region. Profligates reinforcements infiltrated the region not long after, each awaiting battle. Those soldier, unlike the cattle scattered in the Mojave, would prove worthier opponent. But as strong as their might would be, none would be match for the Legion. Much work was still to be accomplished before then, strings had yet to be pulled, matters left unfinished. And a loose string lost alone in the Divide. Vulpes thought of her when he could spare a breath. He wondered of whom awaited her, what linked them so. He did not wonder of her return, treating it like an inevitability. She would return and her path would take her to the Dam. But he wondered, if her path would return to his shore before it. If time would allow their silence to meet one last time.
Reality would prove herself most cruel to him. Both time and silence were ripped from them as their path returned to the Dam, standing on opposite side. There was no time for question and anger as bullet grazed his ears, watching as she ran further into the battlefield. Her path clearly set on the Legate. He should have hated her for it all, his mangled trust and her foolish betrayal. He should have ripped his sight from her figure, focusing once more on the battle, but found it impossible. He could only watch as the Legate descented on her, anger poured in each of his strike. Vulpes fought his way closer to them, view obstructed by passing soldier. His stomach twisted, the sound of their weapons dancing above the battlefield. He hoped he would find her corpse, it would have been a fairer fate that any he would have inflicted upon her. His feet came to a halt at the top of the hill, her corpse was nowhere to be found. Only the Legate laid dead, His bloodied helmet held in her hands. The world fell silence as their gaze found the other, Bloodied hands settling the helmet in his.